Snippet: TRG draft 2
Garrett found himself a sheltered spot against the wall, tucked between a drainpipe and a snow-covered steel housing, and waited, smoking. Occasional squawks on the emergency wideband, undirected radio traffic from the rest of the city. Chatter from dispatchers and responders, reporting conditions, traffic, situations cleared and those still unresolved. Cops, paramedics, and firefighters reassuring one another over the ether that they weren’t alone. They’d reached the blast site on Green Street, talk of dozens, maybe hundreds dead, more injured. Buildings shattered, vehicles tossed around like litter, fires from spilt gasoline and broken gas pipes. Nothing about further explosions so far, but there’d been several scares, stampedes, some enterprising looting. Bomb squads were out at dozens of suspect packages, vehicles and the like. No word yet on who might have been responsible or what they wanted, whether there was more to come.
In the shadowed dark, radio ghosts dancing quietly in his ear, he thought about Emi, and how long it would be before he’d see her tonight.
(Unspellchecked, raw, not yet fit for public consumption etc. Context, also, is for the weak, but this is early on in the book.)
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